“Toots Shor’s of Athens” has closed its doors. I was laid back in my “Lazy Boy” knock-off, and glad I was, when Jerry Sandlin called and said he was closing LuVici’s Restaurant.

I was both stunned and saddened.

When Jerry opened LuVici’s 10 years ago, I said, “This is the Toots Shor’s of Athens.” He had never heard of Toots’ place, the most famous eating, meeting and drinking establishment in Manhattan back in the 1940s and 1950s. It’s where Joe DiMaggio, Marilyn Monroe, Frank Sinatra, Jackie Gleason, Ernest Hemingway and other famous people came to eat, see and be seen.

LuVici’s was like that on a much smaller scale, except alcohol wasn’t served. Jerry’s faith is strong but not preachy. He lives his faith. I told him numerous times that if he added a bar and sold wine and beer he could earn more money. He wouldn’t hear of it. He knew the danger of alcohol. So do I. Folks, that stuff will kill you!

Jerry set out to provide good food and great service in a friendly, family atmosphere. He accomplished that tenfold. He was always at the front door, wearing his brown Carhartt pants (I think it’s the only pair he owns) and greeting guests. Visitors came from far and wide to eat at LuVici’s.

I always ate fried catfish there on Friday along with my favorite seafood — hush puppies. I’ll miss seeing his team of hardworking and friendly waiters: Michelle Durand, Katie Marks, Elaine Whitt, Paul Chessire, Tara Kyle, Margaret Abernathy, Sarah Swanner, Nancy King, Summer Mahoney, Ashton Parker and the kitchen team of Aaron Locklear, Katie Abernathy and Jose. They made everyone feel at home.

Jerry learned to cook at a young age, while washing dishes at H&H Barbecue Ranch off Nick Davis Road. He improved somewhat over time.

I’ve known Jerry’s family practically all my life. They were reared in East Limestone, where my family is rooted. One of my first dates was with Jerry’s sister, Carolyn, back in the late 1950s. I was 16 and had just bought my first car, a 1949 Plymouth my grandmother financed at $5 a week.

I asked Carolyn out to an East Limestone High School event. Mr. Sandlin was stern: “You have her back home at 10 p.m. and not a minute later.” I swallowed hard. “Yessir.” Jerry was 11 and present that night, but I didn’t pay him any attention. I should have kept an eye on that little booger. Later that night I had a flat tire, which resulted in returning Carolyn past 10 p.m. I was scared. I explained to Mr. Sandlin what happened, but I don’t think he believed me. Years later, while having lunch with Jerry at LuVici’s, I learned why I had a flat. Jerry had let air out of my tire.

Jerry’s daughter, April, married Bert Wilson. I claim responsibility for that union. Many years ago, I hired Bert to brick in a window at my law office. When I departed for home that afternoon I saw a beautiful young lady mixing mud and carrying bricks to Bert on a ladder. It was April Sandlin.

“You better marry that girl,” I said. “She’s pretty and a hard worker.”

They married. April may not hit a lick at a snake nowadays, but she’s still pretty and gave Jerry and Pattie two beautiful grandchildren – all because of me.

Several years ago, while Jerry and Pattie were vacationing in South America, Jerry called me and asked my hat size. “In spite of having small brain, I wear a large,” I said. When he returned home he gave me an expensive, handmade Barranco panama hat. I looked it over. “Why, you can buy these hats all day long in Juarez for three bucks,” I said, teasing. I love it and wear it proudly.

Jerry has a big heart. Last year, my good friend Pat planned a surprise birthday party for me at LuVici’s after hours. Jerry handed the door key over to Pat and went home. Pat and friends prepared and brought their own food to serve. Jerry didn’t charge a dime nor make a dime. Michelle Durand and Katie Marks remained and served food. They didn’t charge a dime, either. I told Jerry, “I’ve never heard of a businessman turning his restaurant over to people, free of charge, who brought their own food.” That’s Jerry Sandlin for you.

I’ll sure miss seeing him at LuVici’s. And I’ll miss seeing the Rev. Kenny Baskin, First Methodist minister, eating fried chicken for Monday lunch. I believe Kenny is actually a Baptist. Methodists don’t eat that much fried chicken. Kenny is so good, you want to die just to hear what he’ll say at your funeral. I’ll also miss having lunch with Dr. Frank Cauthen, who has the sharpest wit around, not to mention breakfasting with author Jim Nesbitt, who writes hard-boiled detective novels set in Texas.

And then there is Julia the Pig, twice Christmas Queen of Athens and the only hog on earth to be elected to such a prestigious position. Her photo hung on LuVici’s wall, depicting her “pigging out” on her favorite meal – corn on the cob.

Jerry, I wish you much happiness in retirement. Now you’ll have time to cook breakfast for Pattie and serve it to her in bed every morning, wash her car and carry out the garbage – and of course, when she gives you a pass, ride your new Indian motorcycle.

— Barksdale, a retired attorney, historian and author, is an occasional contributor to The News Courier.